


Benediction and Begging

by JudeAraya



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010 Era (Phandom), Jamaica Trip 2010 (Phandom), M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: Intimate Jamaican night. The showing and not telling of love; the moments between newness and knowing.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 33
Kudos: 98





	Benediction and Begging

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EtceterasEverywhere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtceterasEverywhere/gifts).



> For the lovely Mars/ EtceterasEverywhere. Happy Birthday wonderful human!

“Dan, _Dan_ ,” Phil gasped, face beautifully pained, fingers digging hard into Dan’s barely moving hips. 

“Hm?” Dan smiled and ran the palms of his hands down Phil’s shoulders to his hands, making him hold on even tighter. 

“‘’S too good,” Phil said, eyes opening. The light was dimming; the Jamaican sunset spilling through the windows competing with the faint orange glow of a single bedside lamp. Phil’s eyes were dark, all pupil and ringed by a deeper than usual blue. Dan bit his lip and shifted, clenching around Phil’s cock. Phil whimpered. When his hand slid from Dan’s hip to cup his cock, his eyes opened wider. 

“Dan, you-you’re not--” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dan leaned in for a kiss Phil indulged in for a few lovely seconds before breaking away. Phil cradled Dan’s soft dick in his hand, thumb running up and around it. Dan shivered, oversensitive and oversaturated with so much stimuli.

“But, I don’t want to if you don’t like--” 

“Phil, I fucking love this.” Dan tugged on Phil’s hair to meet his eyes. “Let me do this, all right?” 

Phil took a moment, then a breath before nodding. 

Dan had taken Phil by surprise earlier, taking advantage of Phil’s desire to look over footage while he stole the hot water in the shower. A shower where Dan soaped the salt from his skin, got himself off fast and hard, then prepped himself efficiently. 

The thing was Phil just gave Dan so much, relentlessly. Love and acceptance, a safe place to go when home was shit, when life was shit. Laughter until it hurt, quiet when Dan needed someone with him without words. He’d helped Dan start his channel, he did things like find a way to get Xacti to bring Dan along as a creator. Phil fucked Dan like it was _right_. With Phil, Dan had never felt an ounce of shame. 

Sometimes, Dan wished he had more to give back. Others, he knew Phil wouldn’t ask for--didn’t need more. Still, Dan did what he could. 

So he’d pinned Phil down on the small loveseat next to one of the beds in their shared hotel room, insistent kisses and fumbling hands stripping Phil of his bathing suit and the shirt he’d thrown on when they’d gotten back into the room. It really hadn’t taken much to build Phil up until he was hard and stuttering through basic sentences. 

More than ready, Dan had sunk, slow and wet and open, onto Phil’s cock. 

“Dan,” Phil murmured, trying to catch Dan’s attention. “Are you not-” 

It wasn’t unusual for Dan to lose his erection when they fucked. It always came back; when Dan wanted it, there was nothing like being fucked through an orgasm with Phil, hard and throbbing inside him. But he’d gotten himself off in the shower for a reason. 

“Phil,” Dan whispered, fingers in Phil’s hair, clutching the back of his neck, hips flexing so, so slowly as he worked his body in small undulating waves. “I love you.” 

Phil went quiet, then grunted when Dan shifted himself closer, pressing their chests together. When Phil began to speak, Dan stole the words from his mouth with a kiss. They didn’t say it like that, words stripped and vulnerable and so honest. They didn’t really know any other way to say _I love you_ without bruising each other with the depth of meaning and feeling in each word. Dan didn’t need to hear it back. He wanted to press each letter, the syllables, the shape of love in words into Phil’s skin, to drench him in it until it was all delirious and hot and so honest he’d know, without a doubt, how much Dan meant it. 

Dan loved Phil in a too-big way that sometimes scared him. Dan loved him in ways that no words could capture. 

He slid up Phil’s cock, the friction of the motion against his rim sending off a muted flickering pleasure, the memory for how good fucking, being fucked, felt with Phil. Dan didn’t want it to be about himself at all though. He wanted Phil to use him, even if it was gently; if it was rough and fast; if Phil didn’t even know what he wanted but allowed himself to take. 

Phil’s kisses were uncoordinated, his hands back on Dan’s hips, trying to urge them faster. 

“Slow,” Dan said against Phil’s wet lips. “If you like.” 

Phil hesitated. 

“It’s okay, Phil. I promise this is...it’s amazing,” Dan reassured him. He wasn’t sure how to say it, how Phil inside him, Phil seeped in pleasure only Dan could give him, was better than getting off. He licked just inside Phil’s bottom lip then bit it. His hips twinged but he ignored the ache, wanting to be as close, skin to skin, body barely moving, imprinting every sensation from this moment to memory. 

“Yeah,” Phil whispered finally. 

The windows were open and the new night air was still moist and warm, overheating their bodies until everything felt slippery from sweat and added lube and the kisses Phil sucked onto Dan’s neck and shoulders. Phil’s fingers were slick with the added lube he’d insisted on rubbing against Dan’s rim, feeling the catch and slide of his cock as Dan rode him in slow, measured movements. 

Without impending orgasm to reach for, to be lost in, Phil fucking Dan was a revelation. He felt bigger, harder. Dan felt, oddly, like Phil had never been more in him, more a part of him, than in that very moment. Phi’s fingers were at Dan’s nipples, tugging on his curl-messy hair, raking red lines down his thighs that would fade too fast. Their kisses were a mess of gasped breath and broken curses, Phil saying Dan’s name like it hurt, like he was beautiful, like benediction and begging. Dan’s muscles burned and he was increasingly aware of how sore he was going to be tomorrow. His lips curved into a smile he buried in the sweat-wet crook of Phil’s neck. Each aching muscle would be a bruise he could press his fingers into ground himself in, remember this for days. 

“ _Dan_ ,” Phil whined. He was close. 

“Stay,” Dan whispered, unsure what he even meant, only that even when his body was begging for rest he wasn’t ready for this to be over. Phil’s hands were on his ass, squeezing, pulling Dan down onto him. Dan cried out, a feeling so big he could hardly breathe for it rushing through him. Their movements were barely coordinated, but it was okay, everything was hazy and drawn out and pleasure soaked. The single light had nothing on the dark Jamaican night. The night sky would be blanketed in stars by now. Everything was close; Phil was chanting his name, trying desperately to hold back, to draw this pleasure out. For a wild moment Dan was sure there was nothing but them; just a pocket of air and two bodies, young and in love and in lust and straining toward each other even when so fucking intimate. 

When Phil came it was with a grunted sigh and a broken moan, eyes closed tight. Dan got to watch every second of it, to drink everything in, eyes wide open in a way he’d never been able to before. He let Phil fuck up into him, to take exactly what he needed and when it was done, when Phil’s beautiful eyes fluttered open and his face lit with that half-smile that so often made Dan want to _bite_ and take, Dan almost wanted to say the words again. 

“No,” he whispered against Phil’s lips when Phil moved to shift Dan off of his lap. He was sore as fuck and he could feel how messy they were but he wasn’t ready to let go. “Just a little longer, please.” 

Phil nodded. His hands moved over Dan’s tired body, slow and gentle. He kissed his way from Dan’s ear, along his neck and collarbones, to the rounding of his shoulder. They were light kisses, reverent kisses, each one a tired, sated, overwhelmed _I love you_. This was how they said it, usually. Phil knew best to show Dan because he knew how Dan’s relationship to words and feelings could get so, so tangled. 

Dan’s calves were cramping. Phil’s skin was salty when Dan chased the taste of his sweat. Everything hurt, everything was stunning. Everything was that moment of showing and not telling, love in a touch, love in the breath between tired kisses, love in the messy after and the deep sleep they’d fall into, bodies tangled and still sweating, unwilling, even then, to be apart.

**Author's Note:**

> all the thank you to [rawritsamehh](https://rawritsamehh.tumblr.com/) for the beta read when I tossed this fic at her first thing in the morning. I absolutely did *not* allow myself to obsessively check this over three times because I gotta learn to go with the flow. Enjoy all of the semi-colons and commas :D
> 
> If you liked, reblogs on [tumblr](https://judearaya.tumblr.com/post/635772532819116033) are very appreciated. Comments make my day. Kudos give me life. I am shameless attention need today I guess. Also...Mars birthday! Go wish them the happiest birthday!!


End file.
